Dumped
by Starsky's Strut
Summary: Hutch ponders getting dumped.


All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors; they are entirely mine.

Thanks to Kreek,Eli and wuemsel for their invaluable support. _((HUGS))_

**Dumped  
**By Starsky's Strut

I lay there on my back on the ground and stared up at the stars above. _'God, I hate getting dumped'_ I thought as I lay there.

"Dumped" I said the word out loud; just to hear how it sounded.

"Dumped" I said it again, just to be sure. Yep, no matter how you said it, it never even _sounded_ like a nice word. Hell, it sounded every bit as bad as it was spelled.

"D-u-m - Dumb, as in ignorant, stupid, dim, unintelligent…"_ Okay_, I thought to myself, _that's not how it's spelled, unless your name is Dave Starsky_. But no, even Starsky wasn't that bad of a speller.

"Dump - To leave, abandon, unload, deposit, chuck" _Equally unpleasant things_, I thought as I stared into space, noting momentarily that the stars looked very bright indeed tonight. I gathered my thoughts again. _Where was I…? Oh yeah…_

"Dumped – Discarded, cast off, deserted, neglected… and let's not forget my favorite in this little list - forsaken," I snorted, "I have definitely been forsaken"

"DUMPED!" I hollered the word and then chuckled at my own foolishness. But then again, there wasn't any one to hear me, so what did it matter if I was being foolish or not?

"_Dumped! Dumped! Dumped!"_ Even my own echoes mocked me; I rolled my eyes at the notion. But the idea stuck and sent me wondering.

"How many times have I been dumped? Let me count the ways…" I said it as though I were reciting the poem 'How do I love thee?' Another self-scornful snort escaped me. "And" I elaborated out loud "there are different types of 'dumps', can't forget them, can I? Though, I wish I could…" I sighed and thought back to the very first time I had been dumped.

"Dump number one: Suzy Shannahan, when I was ten. Okay, technically it was her pony that dumped me first…" The memory took me back to that fine summer day. It had been Suzy's birthday party and she was letting all the kids take a ride on her Shetland pony.

I had been ten years old at the time. I had gotten my turn and decided to show off for Suzy, my first crush… Ahhh, puppy love… I had tried very hard to get the tired little pony to canter. I had kicked and kicked. I wanted to show Suzy just how well I could ride. The pony tolerated my stupidity for a little while, before grabbing the bit in its teeth so I couldn't control it. The pony then ran headlong down hill and when it got to the bottom, it dropped its head and stopped, which sent me flying through the air… with the greatest of ease.

I remembered watching the grass wiz along beneath me, before remembering that the grass wasn't moving. I was. It had felt like a very long time, long enough for me to think _'it's gonna hurt when I hit the ground'_ I had been right. It did hurt. A lot.

I got dumped twice that day, once by the pony and once by Suzy. Ahhh, first loves and first dumps… I shook my head and focused on the next big dumping episode.

Dump three, was when I was fifteen. Hormones had kicked in hard _(snicker)_ and yet again I found myself showing off for a girl. This time I had been riding a dirt bike. I was attempting to show her how the professional dirt bike riders went over jumps. They landed with the front tire first.

I was dumped by the dirt bike after touching down, front tire first. I had done it! For a half a second before the dirt bike dumped me in the dirt. I flew head over heels, ass over tip. The girl, Becky… Becky… _'What was her last name?'_ I gave up trying to remember; I was recounting dumps, not girls' names. Maybe I'd do that later, if I still had time.

Well Becky 'What's-Her-Name' was less then impressed with my Motocross skills and my road-rashed face. The whole left side of it was one be raw scrape. She told me she "was not gonna be seen in public with a boy who looked like _that! Yuck!" _And "What about the Dance on Friday?" Becky could not, would not go with me looking like that…

I was the 'dateless wonder' for the 'Big Dance' that Friday. I was sure that my life was over. It hadn't been. My face healed and there were other dances. I thought about it for a moment. Dumped… twice in one day, Becky and the dirt bike…Hmmm? Was a pattern beginning to emerge here?

Where was I? Oh yes, dump number five… _'Let's see, pony is one, Suzy is two, dirt bike is three, Becky is four, yep…on to dump number five and maybe the hardest one to take' _I felt moisture gather in the corner of my eyes, I left it there.

Dump number five started with my decision to NOT continue to go to college in Minnesota and become a lawyer, like my father. Dump number five was a hard lesson in life. I would not change what I had done. I just wished that my father hadn't 'dumped' me as a son. It had been almost a year before Father had spoken to me again. I had been financially cut off. Which was fine, I accepted that as my due for not following my father's wishes.

It was being cut off from my family that had hurt the most, just as it was intended, for they could not speak to me without angering him, if he had found out. And he would find out, he always did, somehow. My father is not the most understanding of men. And his word is law in our house and in our lives.

I cleared my throat and blinked the moisture away. Yep, dump number five was a very bad dump indeed. Indeed… did anyone really use that word? Had it ever been popular?

I snorted once again. I was beginning to ramble on like Starsky now.

I thought back to the dumping thing. _'Stay focused Hutchinson, stay focused'_ Dump number five threw a wrench into the works on my pattern theory. The dumpings had been happening in twos, number five though was a 'single dump' event. A fluke perhaps?

On to dump number six. Vanessa. '_Ah, Van'_ I closed my eyes. I had really loved her. I had thought it would last forever. Forever was quite a bit shorter then I had ever expected or imagined it would be. Forever had lasted only until the disappointment had set in, the disappointment with my job, my income and my choice of friends.

Van wanted so much more… more money, more clothes, more of my time. However, there was one thing she had wanted less of. Less Starsky. A lot less of him and everything would be fine. She told me that over and over. It had been an ultimatum that she told me that she was sure would save our marriage and it probably would have, until she found something else to want more of.

I had tried to work it out with her. But, just as it was with my father, the more you gave up for them, the more they wanted you to give up. But I would NOT give up Starsky. The day Vanessa had finally figured that out was the day she had thrown up her hands and packed her bags and left me. I was dumped again.

Dump seven happened just as soon as my father found out she had left me. Father had started in with the old 'If you had only's' and the 'I told you so's' the guilt trip of a thousand miles and just as many complaints. I could hear my father's voice even now…

"If you had only become a lawyer, she wouldn't have left you, didn't I tell you so?"

"If you had only stayed in Duluth…"

"If you had only stayed in college…"

"If you had not become a cop, she would not have left you. I told you so, didn't I?"

"If you would only just dump that Jew Starsky-"

I had not let my father say another word before I slapped him. I had slapped my own father right across the mouth. I still didn't know who had been more surprised, him or me. Father did not speak to me for nearly three years after that incident.

Dump number eight was when Abby had left me. She had dumped me in the middle of Bay City Central Park. My right hand was wrapped in a bandage from the explosion, her arm in a sling from her brutal assault in my apartment. That had been my fault. I could only blame that dump on myself. If I had not been so distracted by the case Starsk and I were working on, I would never have let her go to my apartment after it had been broken into and a rat left in my refrigerator.

It was totally my fault. Poor Abby, I could not blame her for that. What had I been thinking? How many clues did I need to know that my apartment was not safe for her to be in alone? A rat in the fridge, a rock through the window and me dumb enough to leave the key above the door to let the psycho in, in the first place…

'_Some detective I am'_ I thought sourly _'can't even guard my own home against break-ins… not that I tried overly hard. Why do I leave the key above the door? Why don't I just get a doormat and put it under there? It would be just as obvious. I didn't even think to warn her… Poor sweet Abby… and what was the first thing outta my mouth? 'Did he rape her?' Geez! Not, is she okay? How badly is she hurt? No, I gotta say 'Did he rape her?' Like that was the worst thing that could have happened to her. No wonder she left me' _

I stared off into space again. My thoughts drifted. '_Look at all those stars_…' it made me feel very small. There was the whole universe before me and here I was. Dumped again. Naturally.

Which brings me to dump number nine and my current predicament.

Pain gripped me. I held still, waiting for it to fade. It never felt good to get dumped. This time was no exception. I had been dumped out of a moving vehicle this time. I was currently laying in a ditch somewhere where I could see the stars and ponder getting dumped; it helped to keep my mind off the pain. The physical pain that was nearly blinding me with its intensity and in the distance, I could hear the occasional car drive by.

I thought about the last time I had been in a similar predicament. Trapped under my own car, unable to escape or free myself. Well, that wasn't my problem tonight. I was not pinned, not by anything physical anyway. Tonight I was lying on my back down a steep embankment, smack dab in the middle of God-only-knows where.

I concentrated and tried to recall the events preceding the ninth dumping. It was all so foggy. I had been undercover and they had either figured out I was a cop or they just had wanted to get rid of me as a contact… I don't know why they choose this means of disposing of me. At any rate, they had chosen a poor way of doing it. I backed that thought up for just a minute. I was still here –wherever 'here' was - and they were long gone, I hoped.

Maybe it wasn't their plan to kill me, just send me a message or should I say 'Cliff Barns' a message. I hadn't worn a wire; I knew that they would check me over, looking for one. Perhaps that's the only reason I wasn't dead. Yet.

If Starsky knew where I was, I obviously wouldn't be. Um here, I wouldn't be here… if he knew. But he didn't. I really wish he would find me now though. I gritted my teeth and with a great deal of effort, rolled to my stomach. I panted in the grass. If just rolling over was that much effort, I was in serious trouble. Moving was going to be torture. But if I was going to survive, I had to get to the road and that meant moving. Crap.

I moved my hands around and worked them into position and pushed. My elbows quivered and gave out. As I sank back into the grass, I felt the pinch and a burning sensation, deep inside, internal bleeding, had to be. Terrific. I let my head rest once more in the grass and took stock of my aches and pains. My elbows and knees were deeply scraped, probably had gravel and pavement imbedded in them and those were the least of my injuries.

Must have knocked my head really good… I only knew that I should stay conscious and that was my reason behind my recalling all the dumps in my life. Doing math had only made me want to sleep… something I knew I shouldn't do in my condition. I could slip into a coma. I had to stay awake. Or my ninth dump would be my last.

I wonder how long I've been here, in this ditch? I licked my lips. The dried blood on them liquefied, slightly. The copper taste made me spit it out. Or try. It takes saliva to spit and I didn't have any. Double crap. This was not good. I raised my eyes and looked up the steep embankment. It looked like a vertical face of a cliff… it wasn't, but it might as well have been. I tried to move again. Cliff or no cliff, I had to climb up it to get to the road. Once there, someone would find me.

My mind started to go foggy again. I had to stay conscious. The dark got darker. I grabbed a handful of grass and pulled. I moved. It wasn't much, but I had moved. I grabbed another handful and pulled again. Success! At this rate, I knew I could make it to the road… in three or four days. I stopped and tried to catch my breath. I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness; I struggled against it and felt myself losing that little battle.

"Quitter!" My father suddenly hissed in my ear. "I always knew you were a quitter. Why couldn't I have had a son that listened to his father? No, I got you. You are a failure. You've failed at everything, at being a lawyer, at being a husband, at being my son. It's no wonder why everyone dumps you. Garbage deservers to be dumped"

That hurt. It still hurt more then all my other current injuries put together. My father had spoken those words quietly to me in his den. They had hit me harder than any fist could have. The pain lingers on. I wish he had hit me that day. That would have healed. I knew this never would.

"Quitter… can't even make it out of a little ditch" I watched as my father faded into the black. A new voice broke in, Vanessa's.

"You simply aren't worth the effort. God knows I tried to help you. But you never listened to me. For someone so smart, how could you be so dumb? If you had just listened to me, I would be living in a big house, living the good life. Hell, I would be living period. It's all your fault I'm dead right now. If you had stopped being a cop and dumped Starsky, I would be alive, right now. I'm glad I dumped you though. I just couldn't be strapped to someone as un-ambitious as you. Your father was right. You are a failure"

The parade of all the people that had dumped me all made their appearance. Even the little pony put in a very brief visit. I realized, upon seeing the pony, that I was feverish. For some reason, it had not occurred to me. It made all made sense now.

"Hey Hutch!"

I blinked that the sound of Starsky's voice. But was he coming to tell me that he was going to dump me too? I didn't want to hear that. I kept my head down. I was tired. Tired of hearing my mistakes, my faults and most of all, I was tired of being dumped. Really, really tired. I did not want Starsky's dumping me to be 'dump' number ten… or any number at all for that matter. But why else would he be here?

"Hey… Hutch… c'mon… hey"

I felt something in my hair. Must be bugs. Ants' maybe. They were usually one of the first critters to get to a body. I lifted my hand a little to brush them off. Something grabbed my hand.

"Hutch? Hey partner… I know you're in there…"

I felt a pat to my face. Light, gentle… just enough not to let me slip off into the darkness. I did not want to be awake when he dumped me. I let myself fade a little more; I didn't want to be awake for this.

"Get down here with that stuff!"

Oh, great… now what? I started to envision them bringing down a catapult to load me on to hurl me the rest of the way down the hill… or was I on a mountain? I guess it doesn't matter now. Starsky was about to dump me. I squeezed my eyes closed. I didn't want to see his face when he did it.

"Hutch?"

It was whispered in my ear, a hand brushed my hair. God, this dump would kill me. I prepared myself as best I could. Fear built up. God, I didn't want to get dumped again. I squeezed the hand that held mine.

"Hutch! Hey…"

I heard relief in his voice. I worked at getting some saliva together so I could talk. I pried my eyes open. I was only gonna ask just once. I would not ask twice. It was a matter of pride with me. I worked my jaw and forced out the word "Starsk?"

"Yeah Hutch… I'm here, right here…"

I felt a tear work it's way down my cheek and into the grass beneath my face, dammit, I didn't want to be pathetic while I asked my question. I closed my eyes again. I could feel him thumb the tear away. I forced out the words before I could loose my nerve "D-don't-" _Dammit_, I hate it when I stutter.

"Don't what Hutch?"

The words were softly spoken and he was close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my face. This felt so real. "D-don't dump me" There, I said it. My stomach twisted as I waited for his response. Nothing. He said nothing. I knew he wasn't really here. I had been imagining the whole thing. I was still alone on the embankment as I had been for some time now. I cracked one eye open, it took a great deal of effort.

I opened the other eye. I could see the distant sky turning pink with the dawn... or maybe it was evening. It didn't matter… nothing matters when you're dumped. My eyes closed. Nothing seemed important anymore. Then I could feel arms moving themselves around me and I could feel myself being lifted carefully onto something warm. Funny. I didn't remember feeling cold. But I must have been, for I was warming up a little. It dawned on me that I was in someone's lap.

I opened my eyes after the movement stopped. It took a few seconds for my eyes to focus and when they did, I recognized Starsky's face. Those expressive midnight blue eyes of his, his whole face could tell a story with just a look. And the look on his face was his 'what are you talking about?' look and it was mixed with a whole lot of worry. His eyebrows worked furiously for a second or two, like they do when he is processing some troublesome mystery. The eyebrows stopped their movement and a grin blossomed on his face.

"Dump you? Hutch, I would never dump ya. Hell, I've never even been able to completely lift you off your feet, ya big lug. How the hell do you expect me to dump ya?"

He gave me a gentle squeeze at the end of that sentence; it was just a littlehug and a ruffle of my hair. I could see on his face that he knew what I had been thinking. He had figured out what I had really meant and countered it. I knew then that everything would be okay. I relaxed into him. I knew he would never dump me.

Never

The End.


End file.
